


Why Did Cupid Have to Paint Love Blind?

by AmateurScribes



Series: Whumptober 2019 [13]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Adrenaline, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Eye Trauma, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury Recovery, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mercenaries, Possessive Behavior, Prompt Fic, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurScribes/pseuds/AmateurScribes
Summary: Simmons hasn't been acting like himself anymore.And even Grif could see it clear as day- or well, he canmostlysee it.





	Why Did Cupid Have to Paint Love Blind?

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to explore the merc!Reds universe more, so if you haven't read [The Burnt Bridge Holding Back a Damn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959106), make sure to do that for context of what happens in this one! This will actually be a subseries within this event, so expect to see this universe more!
> 
> For the duration of this event, all mistakes are my own.

Grif's never really liked hurting people. Never really liked the idea of it.

He's not like Simmons who can kill a target without any hesitation, now that Donut's no longer working with them.

Now Grif, he's a driver. He's the one who gets them  _ out _ of situations, he works in the opposite direction of danger.

The rush and adrenaline he gets from sitting behind the wheel are enough for him.

And considering the one time that he had to actually hurt others-  _ killing _ them- ended up a pure disaster he can say that it's just not for him.

But now he can't even drive either, at least just not for the time being.

Hell, he can't even walk around without bumping into shit, there's no way he'd trust  _ himself _ behind the wheel.

This makes Simmons antsy, the stillness of not having a current target or mission.

Because as the other man insists, there's no way he'd be able to get anything done without Grif.

Grif knows that their whole method of working has been severely ruined, but he's still not sure why.

He hardly even remembers the day when he lost his eye.

And Simmons is of no help, no matter how many times he asks and prods about it.

"So Donut just left, without saying  _ why," _ Grif asked, sitting propped up in the shitty motel bed where they've made their temporary base. Simmons made them move everything to half-way across the city, stating that the previous location was compromised.

"No, I said that he left like a coward," Simmons snapped from where he was on his computer. 

"I'm still not hearing a  _ why," _ Grif frowned.

"Does it matter," Simmons whirled around in his chair to glare at him. "He obviously didn't care about us-  _ you- _ to stick around and make sure you didn't die. So who cares about  _ why _ he went when we should be figuring out  _ where _ to make sure he doesn't squeal like the fucking skittish mouse that he is."

"I thought that mice  _ squeaked," _ he observed Simmons and the way that he angrily went back to typing. "Pigs squeal."

"Who gives a shit  _ which _ farm animal he is, he's still a traitor," Simmons snapped his computer closed and buried his face into his hands. "Fuck, I should have never let him watch when I tracked down targets."

"Can't find him?" and here he raised an eyebrow at that because typically Simmons could find  _ anyone _ no matter how good they thought they were at hiding.

"He's probably gone off the grid," Simmons scowled. "It doesn't matter, he's going to slip and poke his head out of the hole he's hidden in and I  _ will know." _

"Why are you even stressing out about this?" Grif asked. "I don't think he's going to rat us out to the law."

"That's not what I'm worried about," and for the first time, Simmons sounds like his old self- the type of nerd who'd argue about which generation of Star Trek was the best, instead of the jaded man who was trying to hunt down their old colleague. "I'm worried that you're going to get hurt again."

"What? Me?" he blinked- and the thought that he couldn't do that with his other eye comes slamming into his gut, because he really is missing his other eye isn't he- and straightened up.

"Do you know what it was like- for  _ me- _ to see you all bloody like that," Simmons whispered, getting up and out of his chair, approaching him. "I thought you were going to  _ die _ and for the first few days after, when you got that fever, I thought that  _ that _ was going to kill you instead."

"I don't know what that's like," and he really doesn't, and he can't even remember what Simmons' faced looked like that day. Everything's a blur from when he noticed those guards- he doesn't even know if that's why they were, truthfully they could've been anyone- to the point when he woke up and was only able to open one eye.

Simmons sat down on the edge of the bed, head bowed as he laced his fingers together tightly.

"I can't let anyone hurt you ever again," Simmons said, not looking at him. "And I won't let someone we used to think of as a friend hurt you either."

Reaching out for one of his hands, Grif clumsily separated them to squeeze his left hand tightly.

"Look, I'm fine, ok," and he tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the left side of his face still hurt like a bitch so it came out as more of a grimace. "You've still got me, don't you?"

Simmons stared at their conjoined hands, then trailed up until he was looking directly at Grif, and he held his gaze for a moment that felt like it could've last forever.

His eyes stared straight into his- drifting to the stained and bloody gaze that was hiding away his gaping and  _ empty _ socket- as he swallowed harshly.

"Grif, I- I have to tell you this before I never get the chance to," Simmons started, his voice cracking nervously at parts. "I- I love you."

He looked away, as if not being able to bear any rejection from him.

And Grif's never really been good at expressing his feelings- sometimes he just felt as if he wasn't capable of doing so, like a switch in the back of his mind had shut off that ability from him- so he doesn't want to stumble over his words and say the wrong thing by accident.

So he opts to reach out and cradle Simmons’ face, bringing him close as he leans in and tries to aim for his lips, but he still hasn't gotten used to his limited vision, so his lips connect with the corner of Simmons’ mouth instead.

And Simmons looks shocked but quickly gets the hint, and he adjusts his position on the bed, straddling Grif and deepening the kiss, helping out the other man by connecting their lips properly.

From there it's a mess of hands reaching out and running through each other's hair, breaking apart the kiss before coming right back for more. His heart beats as he's filled with passionate adrenaline that is much more pleasant than the type of adrenaline that tries to keep him alive in dangerous situations.

And occasionally in between kisses, Simmons would mutter  _ 'mine' _ under his breath, but Grif hardly even noticed, too wrapped up in the moment to comment on it.

Never did he think that something as horrible as almost dying would bring them closer together, but that night he doesn't find that he can complain.

And it feels like things get better from that night, they have to move locations a few more times on Simmons' assistance, and that means he doesn't get to see Kai as often, sending the money that they manage to make as they stumble back into the business through the mail.

But they make it work, and Grif relearns how to drive with his new impairment, and somehow he gets even better at it than before, more willing to take risks which gets them out of sticky situations quicker. 

Because now the jobs they take on get more personal, Simmons is a close ranger fighter, so sometimes Grif has to get one the scene with him, going undercover when it's needed. So they have to get out fast, and Grif can make sure that happens.

And things are good- extremely good- for a while, so when one day Simmons comes into the hotel room that they're staying put in with a bright grin on his face, Grif isn't shocked or surprised.

That is until he sees him cleaning a very bloody knife.

He doesn't remember the other man telling him about an independent job that he was going out to do.

And there's just something about that knife that feels so hauntingly familiar. He hadn't seen Simmons use that one ever before but for some reason the left side of his face throbs in pain.

It's uncanny enough to make him ask, "What's got you so happy?"

Simmons looks up at him from where he was cleaning the blade with a cloth.

"Just dealt with a pest," he told him cheerily. "Don't worry about it."

But he has a bad feeling in his gut, so he can't stop himself from asking, "Does it have anything to do with a rat?"

Simmons' smile becomes stilted, and Grif can see the way that his eyes harden for a second.

The other man puts down the knife- and he wouldn't admit it aloud, but there's a part of Grif that feels relieved that he does so- and he gets off of the couch, standing next to Grif before leaning into him and initiating a kiss.

And normally Grif would reciprocate, but he pulls away and asks, "Where did you get that knife?"

Simmons ignores him, going right back to locking their lips, and it's when Grif pulls away again that he says, "I got it off of a guard that we dealt with a while ago, don't worry about it- he's dead."

And curiously enough he reaches up and pulls off Grif's eye patch, pulling it off and revealing the ugly mess that remains of the left side of his face- the mess of scars that encompass where he used to have a second eye.

Tossing away the black cloth, he informs him, "I made sure of that."

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so like, thank you to the people who showed concern in the comments last chapter. I figured out that it's the change/drop in weather that's making me ache, so I started to make sure to stay in heated areas. Plus, I'm going to try and get some rest earlier, that way I can make sure to complete this event for all of y'all :)!
> 
> If you'd like to contact me, you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing).


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